


Only For A Moment Chapter 3

by The_Word_Witch



Series: Only For A Moment [3]
Category: Bucky Barnes - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes-centric, F/M, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 04:17:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16865971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Word_Witch/pseuds/The_Word_Witch
Summary: For most of your life you’d been able to keep your abilities a secret, that is until Hydra got wind of you. After years of being in their clutches, you break out when The Avengers expose SHIELD/Hydra. Since then, you’ve been on the run. Things are going as well as you could hope when you see a familiar face… Could the Winter Soldier really be in Bucharest too?





	Only For A Moment Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: PTSD, mild violence, imprisonment.

You memorized the city map, have even explored most of it, but you know no area better than where you’ve been squatting. The buildings surrounding it are just as squalid, likely due for demolition soon, and the only people in the vicinity won’t interfere if they hear something unsettling.

Though there’s a part of you that’s horrified at the idea of leading him to where you’ve found something like safety you know it doesn’t really matter. If the Soldier has been sent for you he will eventually find you. If it can happen on your own terms, well that’s as good as it’s going to get.

You don’t look back to see if he’s still there. You know he is. Once at your building you don’t go in, you slip to the back. These were once duplex like tenements and the backyard is littered with everything from broken metal piping that once provided water to the house, to glass, bricks, stray bits of metal, and even the aluminum skeleton of a kid’s playset that rests half in the soil and half obscured by overgrowth. You can use all of it. Anything is a weapon when propelled at a high enough velocity and you’re fairly certain that a piece of lead pipe hurtling faster than a bullet can even take down the Soldier.

You let your power flow through you and you become weightless floating noiselessly into the bushy trees that fill half the lot. Honestly, you don’t expect to see him. You’re prepared for a fight but knowing what you do of Hydra’s methods you mostly expected that he’d follow you and come back later. But there he is climbing into the yard almost as quietly as you had.

Slowly, methodically, he scans the area and you instinctively sink deeper into the trees to hide from that piercing stare. He doesn’t seem to notice you and you think for just a moment he looks… disappointed. Sad, like he missed something… No. You pull yourself together. This is the fucking Winter Soldier. Hydra’s own personal boogeyman. You will not allow them to trick you though you applaud the effort.

He edges toward the hidden playset and you seize the moment. A shattered bit of pipe flies at him and without flinching he smacks it out of the air, the sound of metal on metal filling the silence. You float from the trees. He looks right at you, those eyes like cold fire. While he’s distracted by the justifiably unsettling image of a floating person, you hurl a brick at the back of his head and the infamous Winter Soldier hits the ground with a resounding thud.

This was easy. Far too easy. You aren’t stupid enough to not see that. But you can use this to your advantage either way. Quickly you get this hulking man into your squat. The back rooms aren’t habitable, the floor falling in so badly that was someone to step on it you’d definitely find yourself in the floor, not on top of it. Thankfully, you can float both of you without too much of a headache.

You’ve made what was once the living room your ramshackle abode. It’s the only part of the building where the roof is fully intact and the floor is solid. Unfortunately, that also means it’s the only place you can bring him. The corrugated metal blocking the hallway sealing your space from the drafty back of the house drags a bit even as you use your hand to focus more energy toward it. He’s so much heavier than you anticipated. As his metal arm clunks against the floor you suspect that’s part of the problem. Unceremoniously you let him drop, hard, in the far corner.

Running your sense up against the studs of the wall behind him you check their structural integrity, not the best but they’ll do. The remnants of a small kitchen are on the other side and the copper pipe while corroded will work well enough for what you need. You punch your fist through the plaster. As you tear through the wall to create a manageable hole you can’t help but wonder if the wall is giving away so easily due to your strength or the building’s neglect. Not for the first time you question if this strength, something you never had before, comes from your abilities or if they did… something. Copper piping begins to snake through the hole in a jerking motion, the subtle sounds of the joints snapping off ring in your ears. No time to worry about that. You’ll use everything at your disposal, even if _they_ gave it to you.

Carefully you manipulate the pliable metal shooting the ends through the wall shackling his wrists and neck to studs and wrap a length around his ankles. _‘Good enough,’_ you think as you head out back. You’re acutely aware that there’s little you can do to really bind him with the resources you have, he’s massively strong and that arm is a weapon in and of itself. You also know the more energy you expend on this the less you’ll have at your disposal to defend yourself. But you’d been practicing, honing your skills, passing the lonely hours by seeing just how much you could do. Feeling out your limits. Again that voice, _‘Just like they want you to.’_ Push it away. Focus on now. The wire fence in the back of the lot is consumed by foliage but you’re able to yank a good length of chain link from it nonetheless. On the side of the yard, you notice a backpack that wasn’t there before he arrived. You bring it to you and carry it and the fencing inside.

The Soldier is still unconscious, his head lolling, the copper manacle the only thing holding it somewhat upright. There’s even a slight bit of saliva leaking out of the side of his mouth. _‘Shit, hope he’s not dead,’_ you think as you approach. You’d kill him without even thinking twice but you had questions he may just answer if you asked them the right way. Before binding his legs with the fencing you check his pulse. It seems faint but definitely there. Not dead.

With his legs encased in layers of fencing and his arms manacled with a few extra lengths of pipe for good measure, you collapse onto the bed. The space between your eyes is pounding but not as bad as you’d anticipated.

It’s early afternoon but the boarded windows make it seem like evening. You flip on the electric lantern by your bed and the backpack rushes toward you landing softly at your side. Before opening it you run down what could be inside. 

Weapons? You glance at the Glock and 6 knives you pulled off of him sitting on your nightstand. Nah, he wouldn’t carry weapons in something that could so easily be taken in a fight. Definitely could be a tracker in there, something to alert Hydra of his location when the task was finished. A bomb? You shake your head. _‘Getting ahead of yourself.’_

Rather than touch the bag you focus on the zipper, pull it open, and let the contents spill out. What escapes the confines are worlds away from what you anticipate. Severed body parts would have shocked you less than these items.

Notebooks. Spirals and composition books with different titles like “People” and “Lies?” inked in a sometimes shaky sometimes solid hand. Sharpies, highlighters, and pens of every color. A bruised apple. A few books like a Lovecraft compilation and an E. E. Cummings’ poetry collection. But it’s the non-fiction books that really catch you off guard. _Howl At The Moon: The History of The Howling Commandos_ , _Lost and Found: The Incredible Journey of America’s Captain_ , _Silent Heroes: Tales of WWII Vol. 15 James Buchanan Barnes._

It’s that last book that makes your breath catch. The grainy photo on the cover shows a young man with short but somewhat shaggy hair, his face relatively clean-shaven, but the eyes… Even in black and white, that stare is unmistakable. 

You gape at the unconscious form of The Winter Soldier, of James Buchanan Barnes, and for a fleeting moment you don’t see an assassin, you see someone who may be a ghost too.


End file.
